


Mad science

by fictionisthebetterreality



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: AKA Hanji, Cat/Human Hybrids, Dog/Human Hybrids, Duhh, Experiments, Jean and Eren dont get along, M/M, Mad Scientists, Marco is a sweetie, Pain, Romance, Shapeshifters - Freeform, Torture, Trapped, as always, eventually, genetic mutations
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-04-13 17:45:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4531218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionisthebetterreality/pseuds/fictionisthebetterreality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Ah, so you are alive then” The guys eyes widened slightly, and his head came up further, almost like he was forgetting to hide. That was nothing compared to what happened when he must have focused properly on Jean. His breath came in sharply, and the eyes grew impossibly wide. Jean could now see his face, and holy shit this dude had enough freckles to rival a Dalmatian.</p><p>Knowing what he was staring at, Jean brought out his slyest grin, showing just enough teeth to make anyone uncomfortable, twitching his nose and tilting his head to the side for maximum effect.</p><p>“What’s a matter?” he asked teasingly, “Cat got your tongue?”</p><p>Jean  is trapped in a secret underground facility run by Dr Hanji Zoe, who performs various experiments on the prisoners resulting in a lot of... physical changes. He's pretty much given up on ever getting out of there, but then a particular freckled someone becomes his neighbor and things start to change. Jean doesn't know why it's so easy to trust this stranger or why they can talk like they've known one another for years after just a few days, but he does know one thing. He's getting out. And he's not going alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New Arrival

Thank you soooo much for deciding to give this a shot!! Even if it's not your cup of tea (try and guess where I'm from, I dare you), constructive criticism always helps!! If you do like it, then yay!!! Kudos/Comments/whatever are alllllll welcomed! 

* * *

 

It was the crying that woke him up, which was weird. Not because someone was crying, god no, there was enough crying taking place here to fill a bathtub on a weekly basis, probably more. What was strange was that he’d manage to sleep through what he heard later was an extremely loud struggle as this new guy was brought in, tied up but still fruitlessly trying to escape (ha, like that would ever happen, he had tried it enough times himself to be the resident escape artist, albeit one that had never had actual success), only to be bodily thrown into the neighbouring cell after which there was a lot of yelling and pointless wasting of energy, until they finally succumbed to the reality of it all (aka no escape, ever) and the crying began.

The knowledge that he had woken up to crying did nothing to raise Jeans spirits (not that he expected it to, really), and only confirmed his suspicions that he had long grown numb to all the suffering and pain surrounding him in this hellish place.

And what place was that? Well, no one he spoke to seemed to know for sure. Every single one of them had been grabbed from the street, knocked unconscious for the whole ride until they woke up to concrete floors and steel bars that stretched to the ceiling. All they knew for sure was that they were underground, as there were no windows, and all those with… better-than-most senses could hear and smell nothing more than more concrete and steel in every direction. The lights overhead were on at maximum brightness all day, and never went completely off, just dimmed to an extent where sleep was possible. Not that anyone’s sleep patterns were what you could call normal now, after months of experiments.

Yes, you heard that right. Experiments. They differed depending on the person, but they were the solid focus of their lives down here, and what caused the aforementioned crying spells, along with the overall atmosphere of exhaustion and despair, cracked from time to time with strained chatter and jokes between the prisoners, somewhat affectionately referred to as inmates by Hanji Zoe, the resident mad scientist.

Dr Zoe was a woman of average height… and that was about where the average stopped applying to her. Wild brown hair framed a face with huge brown eyes, made bigger by the goggle/glasses that were almost constantly strapped to it, and a grin that was manic at best, terrifyingly giddy at worst. She was the head of the operation, but that didn’t stop her from partaking in most peoples “examinations”. Her eagerness to see the physiological and psychological changes in a person, combined with her ruthlessness and indifference to the tortured screams of her “patients”, all topped off with that manic grin, made the sense of terror whenever she came in to survey her next victim all the stronger.

Jean woke slowly, which was a nice change from his usual bout of starting awake from memories of being strapped down while a certain four-eyed freak loomed over him with some medical instrument of torture. He was floating in a sort of darkness, that strange place you go to when you are half asleep but awake enough to be semi-aware of the world around you. Say, that the person the next cell over was crying.

Frowning in annoyance, because damn it that was probably going to be the last time he got any decent shut eye for a week, Jean opened his eyes to the blinding brightness that was his personal hell. Staying still for a moment (he’d learned it the hard way that if you made it obvious you were awake while Dr Zoe was in the room you were going to regret it pretty fast) he soon relaxed marginally when he realised she was off doing whatever godawful things she did in her spare time and sat up, turning his head to see the source of the irritating noise.

Don’t get him wrong, Jean wasn’t a completely emotionless bastard, he’d had his fair share of breakdowns while here, he could completely understand, but that didn’t take away the every-man-for-themselves attitude his emotions seemed to be having.

All he could see from his position was a person curled up in the corner of their cell, head on their knees and snuffling to themselves.  The desire to tell them to knock it off warred with the reluctance to voluntarily make conversation and no doubt get the why-am-i-here what-is-this-place spiel that eventually came with every new arrival, and in the end Jean simply glared and leaned back against the wall.

His cell was pretty basic, and identical to every other cell. Against the wall was a raised bench, acting as a bed complete with thin blanket and lumpy pillow. At the end of the bench was a toilet, with a small sink next to that. That was where the luxury ended. Jean imagined prison cells probably had more to them than these ones. Apart from those three items, the cell was bare.

Glancing around, he quietly took in what everyone was doing. On his right was Armin, a small boy with blonde hair that reached his shoulders, with a quiet attitude that allowed him and Jean to have a dysfunctional friendship going within the first few weeks of his arrival. He had his back to Jean, allowing him a full view of the feathered wings there. They had been genetically added to Armin months ago, not suddenly attached like you would expect, but grown from his own muscle and bone. Jean remembered the pain the blonde boy had gone through with a sick feeling, recalling the ceaseless moaning and crying, as the wings took weeks to grow in completely.

Shaking his head slightly to dispel the images, Jean looked across the aisle to the opposite cells. Armin had the corner cell, so there was no one on his other side, which meant that his two friends that had been brought in with him had been put in opposite them. Mikasa was opposite Jean. Her black hair almost reached her waist, and she was just as quiet as Armin, staying silent with a blank expression unless she was speaking to either Armin or Eren. Seeing that she was currently asleep, or pretending to be, on her bunk, Jean turned his attention to Eren with a grimace.

 Not surprisingly, he was scowling, his apparent default expression. Jean would have said he looked to be deep in thought, but hey, this was Eren, he was probably imagining playing fetch in the park or something.

“Well geez, I’ve heard the words ‘crack under pressure’ before but I didn’t realise anyone was stupid enough to think it meant the ground would give way under emotional pressure.” He drawled out, feeling a spike of pleasure at seeing the other boy tense and raise his gaze to meet Jeans. “Say Eren, were you born with a scowl or was that a product of your stupidity making everything ridiculously hard for you?”. He might’ve heard a very small sigh escape from Armin’s cell, but he also could’ve imagined it. Eren’s eyes narrowed, and Jean snickered wearily, too bone-tired to put much effort into the laugh. It was enough though. Eren’s lip lifted, baring his teeth in a not so silent snarl when he replied with a “Fuck you” that had echoes of a growl all the way through it. Jean found no end of amusement from his and Eren’s relationship, one of the only sources of entertainment he had, and something that could be very accurately and ironically described as fighting like cats and dogs.

Jean let the growl rumble over him, simply smiling at Eren in a way he knew would irritate the other to no end, maybe flashing a bit too much teeth than was normal, but heh, who here could be classed as normal anymore?

The prisoners could be summed up like this:

Armin had big feathery wings, white, although whether they could be used to actually fly remained to be seen;

Eren and Mikasa had all the workings of a dog-human hybrid, complete with the ears, tail, and heightened senses, leading to an unending supply of dog related jokes from Jean;

Connie and Sasha, two cells down from Jean, on the opposite side of his new neighbor were.. different. He had mused at first that it could be some split-personality thing, but quickly disregarded that theory upon witnessing the 'melting' that took place and led to Connie physically becoming Sasha, or the other way around. The two shared many traits, like being loud and not knowing when to shut up, but over time Jean had come to learn the differences. Sasha, he discovered, had a love of food that amazed him, and would beg, plead, and occasionally threaten others to get a share of their meals. Connie was prone to depressing talks about the outside, what his favourite place was, where he wanted to go when he was older, as if any of them were actually going to get out of here.  It had caused endless arguments between him and Jean, but overall he thought they were okay, so long as they were reminded to keep their voice down every now and then. He wondered what the strangers reaction would be to them.

Moving on, Ymir was next to Mikasa. Jean had learned, after endless questioning, that Ymir could “talk to dead people and shit”, as she put it. She was loud and abrasive, and had been compared to Jean on more than one occasion because of her “rude as shit attitude” (Eren) and her “bluntness” (Armin).  It wasn’t uncommon to catch her talking to apparently thin air, and had often spoken about someone named Christa, who Jean personally thought sounded way too good to be hanging around Ymir, when she used words like “fucking angelic” to describe the “cute little blonde”.

On Ymir’s right was Bert, and Jean hadn’t really needed to ask to see what was happening to him in his “sessions” with Dr Zoe, not when he came in at roughly 5’9” and was now 6’10”. He was even quieter than Armin, only seeming to speak at any length with his direct neighbours and never in any larger discussions that took place.

Reiner, one of the participants of the lengthier chats due to his position next to Bertolt, was built like a bear, which had been kinda funny due to his calm easy going personality, until he came back from a week with the maniac doctor sprouting white fur and four legs. Since then he had been changed back, but any stress had seen the change quickly reversed and Reiner was back to being what was, Jean had immediately decided, a polar bear.

All together, they had, over time, formed an extremely dysfunctional, argumentative, supportive and messed up family. And now this new guy.

Ignoring the seething glares coming his way from Eren’s cell, Jean shuffled closer to Armin’s side of the cell, before murmuring the other boys name.

“Hm?” His head came up and he turned, facing Jean with those baby blue eyes.

“Who’s the fresh meat?” His bluntness was rewarded with a wince, before Armin regarded him with the tale of how the new guy had been brought in kicking and screaming, before finally giving up and collapsing in the corner.

“Huh” Jean said, glancing back at the curled up form of what he now knew was a guy. All he could see from here was a mop of black hair. He moved closer, ignoring Armin’s whispered “Jean, wait!”

He pondered how to go about this. He didn’t want to bring on another bout of hysterics, so the blunt approach probably wouldn’t work. After a minute, he cleared his throat, pleased at his subtle approach.

When nothing happened, he frowned and cleared it again, more pointedly. There was no way you couldn’t mistake that for anything other than hey-i-want-to-talk-to-you. When he got the same result, Jean quickly decided his patience had run the limit.

“Oi, you deaf or something?” So much for the subtler approach. At least it got a reaction.

The head slowly came up, until two brown eyes were peeking out from behind the folded arms.

“Ah, so you _are_ alive then” The guys eyes widened slightly, and his head came up further, almost like he was forgetting to hide. That was nothing compared to what happened when he must have focused properly on Jean. His breath came in sharply, and the eyes grew impossibly wide. Jean could now see his face, and holy shit this dude had enough freckles to rival a Dalmatian's spots.

Knowing what he was staring at, Jean brought out his slyest grin, showing just enough teeth to make anyone uncomfortable, twitching his nose and tilting his head to the side for maximum effect.

“What’s a matter?” he asked teasingly, “Cat got your tongue?”

* * *

 

Kudos/Comments/Constructive Criticism/whatever else you feel like giving --- all welcomed!!


	2. In the name of Science

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so warning, a little bit of gore in this, sort of.

“What’s a matter? Cat got your tongue?”

Marco realised he was staring, but it was a dim thought in the back of his mind, and it didn’t make him stop. When he’d been dragged in here, and in the time he’d spent yelling himself hoarse, he’d somehow managed to avoid looking at any of the other people – prisoners – here. He was sort of glad about that, now.

The guy currently smirking at him had dirty blonde hair and brown eyes. Marco didn’t know how he managed to take in these details, because they were pretty insignificant compared to his frickin’ _ears_.

Two pointed, distinctly feline ears were perched on the top of this guy’s head, but that wasn’t even the weirdest part. There were whiskers. Growing out of his face.

Marco thought he might faint. Or throw up. Maybe both. The room was spinning a bit because _oh god_ , what were the chances that guy had come in to this place looking like that? What crazy experiments did they even do here? Why was he here? He wasn’t particularly special, he didn’t even go to college for crying out loud!

The guy with the cat-ears was still looking at Marco, and under other circumstances he might have felt self-conscious. He opened his mouth and started to speak, but realised he had no clue what to say. It felt like his head was about to explode.

“I- uh… what? I mean, just…”

 

* * *

 

 

Jean quirked a brow at the freckled kid sitting in a daze opposite him. He’d gone kinda green earlier, but now looked to be in safe territory. When he spoke, it was garbage, basically. His voice sounded slightly rough, probably due to all the shouting Jean still couldn’t believe he’d slept through. For the first time since seeing him, Jean felt a spark of pity. Twelve, hell, six hours ago this guy was probably living a normal life, going to college, whatever, now he was suddenly sitting in a glorified cage surrounded by people that didn’t exactly look human.

He heaved a dramatic sigh for effect, because this guy was the most interesting thing that had happened in while. And by a while, he meant since like, Eren had nearly busted out of his cell a couple months back.

“Okay, I’m gonna assume you can speak English and it’s just the shock making you spew garbage.” Hey, no one had said he had to be nice about it. “I may not be telepathic,” he was so tempted to add _unlike some_ , just to mess with him, but thought better of it. “but I can probably make a few guesses what you want to know. First off, this place? Don’t have a clue where it is. We could be in Alaska for all we know. Why are you here? Again, don’t have a clue. Finally, hm, let’s see… ah!” He grinned. “Yeah, my ears are literally the best thing you have ever seen. I accept your praise, moving on.” He heard a distinct snort from across the hall and flipped Eren off, saying “Fuck you very much, dog-breath” without looking.

At his words, he watched the new kid turn his head and suck in a sharp breath when he saw Eren and Mikasa. The green pallor returned and Jean frowned. “Dude, don’t go being sick. That smell sticks around no matter _how many_ times the floor gets hosed.” This elected a small and high pitched noise, and Jean heard a shuffle and quiet but reprimanding “Jean” from behind him. He half turned, looking at Armin. “I don’t think you’re helping very much” he said, looking at freckles with sympathy. Jean simply shrugged. “He’s gonna have to come to terms with everything eventually, I mean-“

His sentence cut off short as he was interrupted by a very recognisable _pfft_ and then a _shhh_ as the door set in the wall in between Eren and Armin’s cells opened. The change in atmosphere was instant. The somewhat relaxed feeling was gone, and every single person tensed. Jean felt a sharp pang of fear in his stomach, and could taste bile in the back of his throat. All eyes were locked on the door, which was swinging slowly open, to reveal two men, one average height with blonde hair and the other short with black. Jean was both relieved and worried by their appearance. There was no Hanji, which could be a good sign, but Levi on the other hand…

He could dimly hear snuffling coming from behind him, likely freckles having a breakdown, but didn’t dare move to check. Every muscle was tensed, his senses on high alert. He could see Moblit, the blonde nervous one with the clipboard, darting his eyes around as if scared to look at any of them for too long. Levi, as usual, forged ahead with resolute determination, his permanent expression of boredom firmly in place. He didn’t have to walk far though, as the two came to a direct halt in front of Jean's cell, turning to look at him.

At the action, Jean felt his body go into overdrive, adrenaline flooding his senses. He’d had a feeling it would be him, was surprised it hadn’t happened sooner really, as his last… check-up had been a while ago.

“Alright Kirschtein, let’s not make this any harder…” the rest of Levi’s sentence was drowned out by the furious hiss that Jean let out. It was deep and filled the room, Jean's ears flattened to his skull and his tail lashing angrily behind him. The anger stemmed from fear of course, but it was better to put up a front than go willingly. He saw Levi sigh, and remove something from his back pocket, that turned out to be a taser. At the sight, Jean moved, standing in the middle of the room for better manoeuvrability. He relished in the fact that Moblit had jumped when he hissed, and was now standing a good few paces away from the cell bars.

“You know how this is gonna end brat, so you might as well make it easier for everyone." Jeans lip lifted, showing teeth on a very clear display of _fuck-you_. The taser was new, but that wasn't going to cow him into submission. No way. 

 

* * *

 

 

Marco didn’t know what was happening. One minute he was taking deep breaths, trying hard to stop an impending panic-attack, hearing the man in the cell next to him talk to someone, and then all of a sudden it was like the entire room had been put on pause. These two guys had come in and he’d nearly peed himself, because any doubts about his reality were shattered when the cat-guy had outright _hissed_ at them _._ Now he was standing Marco could see a bushy tail whipping about behind him, covered in tawny fur that was a shade or two darker than his hair. Overall, he looked like a very angry, very _scared_ cat.

He jumped when the shorter guy with the black hair suddenly reached forward and unlocked the door. His breath caught, because was he _crazy_ , that cat-guy looked like he could _kill_ him and-

Marco yelped as the raven haired man moved, so quickly that all he saw was a blur followed by an awful crackling sound and broken off yell, before he stilled and stepped back, revealing the cat-guy crumpled on the floor, twitching and spasming. A taser, Marco realised, noticing the small black box being tucked into the guard's belt. The realisation brought chills of fear that made Marco shudder from the force of them. 

Dragging his eyes away, to the guy sprawled on the floor, his eyes were caught by glazed brown ones, half shut but containing so much raw fear that his breath caught. Wherever he was going, it wasn't going to be good. The contact only lasted a second, before he was being pulled up and thrown over the black-haired man’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes. They left in a matter of minutes, the door shutting surprisingly quietly behind them.

He jumped again when someone spoke, interrupting the solemn silence that had fallen.

“Damn, Levi must have been in a pissy mood today.”

He twisted to see a guy with – gulp – what looked like dog ears, staring at the door with a weird expression. The girl next to him sat up, and he saw that she was the same as him.

“Jean didn’t exactly help himself. I don’t understand the point of it really. It’s not like he’ll ever get out.” Marco felt yet more goose bumps raise at the matter-of-fact way she said it, like it was an accepted fact that there was no escape.

“Not all of us are as _willing_ to go as you, Mikasa” another voice piped up with venom. He saw it came from a freckled girl with chocolate brown hair that was situated in the cell opposite him, looking relatively normal.

“That’s not fair, Ymir” this from the blonde boy that Marco couldn’t really see clearly, who was on the other side of who he now knew to be Jean. “You know they just threaten Eren or me if she tries to do anything.”

“You sound more like Christa every damn day Armin, I swear you two were related in a past life or something” the girl called Ymir said in a lazy drawl.

Marco didn’t know who this Christa was, or how they could all talk so normally after what just happened, but he did know his chest felt like it was about to burst from his heart hammering so hard, and he couldn’t keep it in any longer.

“I – excuse me-“ even angry and confused, he still had manners, it seemed.

“- _what just happened?_ ”

There was a brief spell of silence, before the girl called Mikasa looked at him with a frown.

“Who are you?”

He blinked, knocked off track by her bluntness. Had she not seen him dragged in, kicking and screaming? His question was answered when the guy next to her spoke. “He’s new, got brought in when you were asleep. I’m surprise you managed to sleep through all his wailing.” The last wasn’t said with any particular inflection, but Marco felt his ears heat up all the same.

“Marco” he gritted out in response to Mikasa’s question. “I’m Marco”.

Mikasa simply nodded. The blonde guy – Armin – fidgeted before speaking up.

“Uh, hi, Marco. I'm Armin. Jean just got taken away … for, um, well…” Okay so no answers, and it was creeping him out how Armin wouldn’t say.

“Torture. He’s basically getting ripped apart in the name of _scientific discovery_.” The guy with a messy brown hair opposite Armin spoke, leveling an intense stare at Marco as he did, who felt his face pale as the room started doing the weird spinning thing again.

“Eren!” Armin's voice was sharp.

“What, Armin?!” Eren snapped back with a frown. “He’s gonna find out eventually, and I can’t sit here and pretend it’s something it’s not, when I can fucking _hear_ him screaming.”

“Hear him? Screaming?” Marco repeated faintly, pressing a hand to the floor to steady himself.

“The perks of being 50% dog.” Eren said flatly in response, and now Marco looked closer, he could see that his ears were twitching, and his face was twisted into a scowl. He got up abruptly, muttering something under his breath and sitting angrily on the bench set in the wall before laying down with his back turned to the rest of the room.

Marco gulped and looked around the room properly. It looked like there were roughly 9 or 10 cells occupied all together. This fact did nothing to calm his racing heart and he wondered to himself what exactly these people were going to do to him, and why he was here.

 

* * *

 

 

Jean opened his eyes, the room coming into focus, his stomach still burning from the damn _taser_ Levi had used. Above him was a familiar white ceiling, with 37 tiles, one in the bottom left corner cracked and a weird black mark that looked a bit like a star directly in the centre of his vision. He could hear noise, and that too came in more clearly as he shook off the effects of 50’000 volts directly to his body.

“…cause trouble, then that’s what happens! Honestly Jean, I thought we’d gotten past this, I thought we had a bond! A friendship, even! I was thinking of bringing you catnip! I really…” Jean tuned the rest out, recognising the ramblings of Dr. Zoe. He was strapped down onto a table, and caught himself reflexively pulling on the restraints, to no avail. The whole situation gave him a horrifying sense of deja vu. Suddenly his vision was obscured by a large upside-down head featuring an impossibly large smile and huge glasses, brown hair drifting down, some of which brushed against Jean and causing his whiskers to twitch in annoyance. “Now, now, don’t get all antsy! Today it’s just a teensy wincy thing, you’ll barley feel it!” Jean took no hope in her words. She said some variation of them every time, and every time it was a lie. The bitter taste in his mouth intensified as his heart rate doubled. 

“You know, Moblit-“ now the mad doctor wasn’t all over him, he could smell properly, and he recognised Levi’s scent along with the meek assisstant's, although he couldn’t see them. “-I was sitting in my office the other day, and I realised we’ve been so interested In Jean’s more unusual aspects, say the ears and whiskers, we’ve completely forgotten to do comparisons! Comparisons!” she parroted as if someone had asked a question. Jean felt his claws dig into the smooth metal of the table, a result of him trying to clench is hands into fists when they were strapped palm down with no room for manoeuvre. He had a very bad feeling about this, and try as he might, he couldn’t get his breathing to slow down, and could still feel cold sweat sticking his t-shirt to the bench beneath him.

“…the eyes!....” he tuned in enough to hear that, and then there was a roaring in his ears, and a repetitive chant of no-no-no-no-no in his head. The worst part of being half-cat? Faster healing. According to Hanji, he was the fastest healer out of all of them, and to her delight, it meant she could perform more experiments in a shorter time frame. Needless to say, that didn’t spell good things for him. Jean tensed and squirmed, only to have his head roughly shoved down against the bench while a leather strap was secured in place on his forehead. He was making sounds he realised, small whimpers that had no business leaving his throat, but were anyway. They only got louder when some sort of contraption was put in place to expose Jeans eye, starting an automatic stinging to start and tears to roll down his face as they tried to re-moisturise the eye. The mad doctor was talking nonsense, saying things like “Shhhh it’ll all be okay, it’s in the name of science!” but he couldn’t listen, not when she was saying that with a grin that stretched a mile wide, not when she was lifting a wicked-sharp looking scalpel, not when she was bringing it down toward his face…

Jean didn’t know if he started screaming before or after she brought the knife down, but by the time she started cutting, all he knew was the feeling of pain and terror and the laugh of a crazy lady cutting and cutting and not stopping.


	3. Welcome to the family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean returns, everyone is -officially- introduced, Reiner is a mother hen, and Marco tries to keep calm.

 

Why wouldn’t he stop? The endless screaming from Jean was close enough that Eren was getting a headache, causing him to unconsciously flatten his ears against his skull in an attempt to block out the shrieking noise. Gritting his teeth, he glanced over to Mikasa, who was looking at him with sympathy. Her hearing wasn’t as good as his, so she probably couldn’t hear all the different tones and pitches caused by whatever was happening to Jean under the knife of that mad woman they called a doctor. Every time it changed, went higher in pitch, or broke off unexpectedly, Eren would wince and grit his teeth tighter, praying for it to be over, for his sake as much as Jeans. Pain, he could deal with. Hearing pain inflicted on others, even those he didn’t particularly get along with, not so much.

Eventually, his prayers were answered and the screaming stopped. He relaxed and Mikasa picked up on it immediately. He saw her questioning gaze and grunted an affirmative. Soon enough, the door opened and Jean was marched in, Levi holding onto his arm. When Eren saw why, his stomach flipped and he let loose a growl he couldn’t control. All along the aisle he heard various gasps and moans as each person saw what had been done.

Bandages covered the top half of Jeans face, leaving him blind and stumbling after Levi. Blood was already seeping through slightly and it was sickening to realise that whatever had been done, it was bad enough that Jean’s wounds, which would normally heal a lot faster than an average human, were not expected to heal for hours yet.  Eren couldn’t tear his eyes away as Jean was pulled to a stop in front of his cell, Levi having no mercy as he opened the door and pushed him inside, the only thing saving him from stumbling into the bars or wall his whiskers, which still seemed intact. Eren remembered with a shiver the time he had come back with them all chopped off, and had lain writhing in pain for hours on his bunk before they grew back.

With the door shut and locked, Levi swiftly left, and Eren had to bite back a growl at his retreating back. He did nothing to dim his glare though, and maintained eye contact right up until the man rapped sharply on his bars, causing him to flinch automatically, drawing a cruel smirk from his tormentor. Once he left, the room was silent, the only sounds the choked back whimpers emitted from Jean which Eren was pretty sure only he could hear.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Marco felt like he was in an alternate universe. Stuff like this just didn’t _happen_. One minute he’s walking down the street on the way home, the next he’s in some sort of prison where people are _experimented_ on.  People who weren’t even – fully – human! He couldn’t stop shaking, his body alternating between being ice cold and feeling as if he was on fire. And that was before the guy in the cell next to him was dragged back in looking like he would be blind for the remainder of his life. Marco was pretty sure he might have blacked out a little after that, because when he came back to his senses the short black-haired man called Levi had left and everyone was silent.

He turned slowly to look at the guy – Jean, he remembered the others calling him. He was curled up on his bed, facing the wall and completely still except for the tail flicking back and forth, almost like an unconscious twitch.

He opened his mouth, but then stopped. What would he say? What could he possibly say? From what he’d gathered, stuff like this was _normal_ , for these people at least. He shut it slowly, and wrapped his arms around his legs. He nearly screamed when a voice spoke from his right.

“Nothin’ you can say would make it better anyways”

He jumped, and his head turned so fast he was worried he might have given himself whiplash. A boy sat on the other side of the bars. He had a shaved head, and looked pretty skinny. His expression was sad, and as Marco stared, his eyes darted worriedly to Jean. Marco blinked, unsure what to say.

“Oh” was what he eventually managed. From what he could see, this guy seemed pretty... normal. No extra parts, at least.  

The guy nodded, seemingly unbothered by Marco’s short response. “We’ve seen him go through this enough times to know that it’s better to just leave him. He hates sympathy, so it’s better to wait until he’s all healed to talk to him.”

Marco frowned, not understanding. “All healed? But he looks – I mean, his eyes…” he trailed off, not wanting to say the words where the other might hear them.

“Oh that’s right, I guess you wouldn’t know. Yeah, they should be alright by tomorrow. He heals fast, something to do with him being part-cat.”

Marco blinked, before looking over at the part-cat man in question. All healed… by tomorrow? Even with what he’d seen, and knowing that yes, those were cat ears and a cat tail and whiskers, he still couldn’t wrap his head around wounds on that scale healing within 24 hours.

“No I’m not.” Marco jumped again, looking over to the guy next to him. “What?” he asked, confused.

 

* * *

 

 

 

 _You’re freaking him out,_ Sasha reprimanded him gently. “No I’m not” Connie protested, frowning.

_Yes you are, look, now he’s even more freaked out. He doesn’t even know who you’re talking to. He thinks it’s him._

“Shut up” Connie grumbled, his frown deepening when he saw the freckled kids eyes grow even more confused. “Sorry,” he said, “I’m, uh, not talking to you”

_Great going, idiot! Honestly, the poor thing looks terrified; I’m surprised he hasn’t had a nervous breakdown by now. Just shut up and be nice to him, he looks like he could use a friend. He needs some of my positivity really, but seeing as how I’m not in charge right now, you’ll just have to channel your inner-Sasha._

Connie al was ready to go at it with Sasha, but then realised that yes, that might just push the kid over the edge. He grimaced and took a breath, wondering how in the hell he was going to explain the whole two-minds-inhabiting-the-same-body thing him and Sasha had going. Without the kid thinking he was batshit crazy, of course.

 

* * *

 

 

Marco stared at the short bald boy pacing his cell. _He must be crazy_ he thought to himself. _Of course, that’s only if you yourself aren’t crazy. Who knows, you could have lost it hours ago and this is all a figment of your imagination. Right now you’re strapped down, being operated on…_ Marco bit his lip, if only to repress hysterical giggles. Connie – he had introduced himself when he had explained that there was another person in his head – saw, and sighed. “I know, dude, you think I’m crazy. I knew I wouldn’t be able to do this. Sasha’s better at this stuff than me,  - I know!” The last part didn’t seem to be directed at him, and Marco guessed it was for this ‘Sasha’.

 “So,” he started slowly. “You have another person… in your head?” Connie stopped pacing and gestured as he spoke. “Sorta. It’s not so much she’s in my mind as I’m in hers. We share, and take turns using this-“ here he gestured at his body.  “So when she’s ‘ in charge’, as we call it, she looks like herself, and I go to the back of _her_ mind.” Marco blinked, if possible, even more confused. Connie groaned and ran a hand over his face. “That’s the best I can do. You’ll just have to talk to Sash when she comes out.”

“Oh. And when is that, then? How come she isn’t here right now?” Marco frowned, trying to get a handle on the topic.

“Well, she is, but I know that’s not what you meant. You meant how come you’re talking to me and not her, right?” at Marco’s nod, he sat again, indian-style. “We don’t really know. It’s been like this since we can remember. It’s completely random. I can be in the middle of a sentence and – boom. She’s out. She was actually here when you came in, but I don’t really blame you if you didn’t really notice her – give him a break Sash, he’d just been kidnapped.” Marco had noticed a few times now that Connie would break sentences to talk to the girl inside his head. He still didn’t know if he believed the whole idea of another person being in Connie’s mind, but right now he was grateful for the distraction from the tense atmosphere that had settled since Jean had been brought in.

 

* * *

 

 

Jean shifted, coming out of his doze. He’d been woozy from pain when he’d come back to his cell, and it was a miracle he’d managed to avoid crashing into anything when Levi had all but thrown him in. He grimaced at the reminder, and felt his tail twitch in annoyance. When he’d collapsed on his bed, he’d simply let his body do what it needed to do and gone to sleep. Well, as much of a sleep as he could. He’d dozed, and now had been woken up by voices.  He frowned irritably. His eyes itched something fierce, and there was still pain, but it was better than it had been. He realised he could see, to some degree, the light filtering in through the bandages Dr. Zoe had put on. For some reason none of them could figure out, she was always careful to treat their 'wounds' with extreme caution, putting bandages and ointment on them after a session. Armin had said something once about a mother mentality, with Dr Zoe supposedly seeing them all as her 'children,'. That conversation had been uncomfortable enough for Jean to snap at Armin and get subsequently chewed out by Mikasa and Eren for the next two hours until he apologized. Personally he just thought she got a sick thrill from it all.

Shifting again, he sat up, a hand on the wall to steady himself, his balance still slightly off. He swung his legs onto the floor and heard Connie talking to what must be the new guy. Reaching up, he felt around to undo the bandages. He wanted to know how much he could see, and part – or most – of him had gotten into the habit of doing the complete opposite of whatever the good doctor – or Levi, or Moblit, or any one of them, told him to do.

“Jean, what are you doing?” He heard Armin’s quiet whisper as if he were next to him, and grunted. “I’m not sitting around like a damn invalid with these stupid things on. Don’t even need them, I should be alright to see by now.” He finally loosened them and let them fall to his lap, keeping his eyes closed for a moment to let them adjust to the increase in light. He opened them and winced, the muscles and skin smarting at the movement. He heard Armin draw in a sharp breath and turned towards him, only seeing a fuzzy outline. He blinked, and things came into focus slightly more, but the improvement wasn’t much.

He sighed, and asked. “How bad is it?” Armin was quiet, and Jean grimaced. “That bad, huh? I’m not  surprised, she was … bad, today” He clenched his fists at the thought, and forced his mind away from the memory.

“Oh, Jean.” Armin murmured, and Jean heard him shift, his feathers rustling. It sucked having such bad eyesight, but at least his ears made up for it. They picked up a low whistle as he thought it, and turned to see a blurry shape that looked like Eren standing in his cell. “Can you even see anything?” Yep, that was Eren. Jean bristled, still feeling out of sorts and not in the mood to have Eren making comments. “Go fetch a stick, Fido.”  He heard a sharp intake of breath and could imagine the look on Eren’s face, eyesight or not. Before he could retort, Mikasa spoke up. “Don’t, Eren. Leave it.” As expected, Eren followed her advice. Jean ignored the fact that Mikasa was probably stopping Eren out of sympathy for Jean, because his eyes were really starting to hurt again, and he did not have the energy to get into it with him.

He realised Connie had stopped talking, and turned to face him. He could just barely make out his silhouette on the other side of freckles cell. “Don’t stop on my behalf,” he joked weakly. “And that would be Jean, perpetually  bad-mannered and rude. Must be why you get on so well with Eren”. He bristled, but didn’t take the insult seriously. Connie rarely said things out of spite, and was a pretty agreeable guy, most of the time. “Shut it, Connie. Man, I always miss Sash when you’re around, she’s a ray of fucking sunshine compared to you. Hell, I’m a ray of sunshine compared to you.” He snarked back, grinning at Connie’s spluttering.

“What’s this Connie, you’re gonna introduce Jean but not the rest of us? I would’ve thought with all your chit chat I would have been mentioned somewhere!” Reiner’s voice boomed across the empty space, his tone boisterous. Jean couldn’t even see him from here, and felt his irritation spike again. He hated not being able to see. He lay on his back and put his hands behind his head as he listened to the rest of his cell-mates slowly become involved in the conversation.

Connie snorted. “You could’ve chipped in any time Reiner, it’s not like you’re shy.” Reiner chuckled, in seemingly high spirits. “It’s rude to interrupt, something you and Sasha have never understood. I’m convinced you were raised in a barn.” He spoke over Connie – and Sasha’s - protests, his deep voice echoing.  “Well, new guy, I’m Reiner. And knowing the rest of this lot haven’t done a proper job of introducing themselves, I guess it falls to me to be the civilised one.” Jean heard Eren groan and suppressed a smile himself. Reiner could act like such a mother hen sometimes, despite appearances.

“This guy here is Bertolt, better known as Bertl.”

“No, Reiner, you’re the only one who calls me that.” Bertolt’s voice spoke out quietly, accompanied by a sigh. Jean smiled this time. If Reiner was a mother hen, Bertolt was his chick, so to speak. The two were close, with Reiner as protective of him as Mikasa was of Eren.

“That sulky creature next to Bertl is known as Ymir. Hey, she’s your twin!”

“How the fuck is he my twin, Reiner?” Ymir drawled, and Jean could practically smell the eye roll and glare she was no doubt sending his way. “Freckle twins, Ymir. Freckle twins.” Reiner spoke like it was obvious, and moved on before she could respond. “The stunning beauty next to Ymir is known as Mikasa,” Mikasa murmured a quiet hello, and Jean realised she was the only one to have done so, because knowing Connie, he’d just launched right into conversation without thinking. “I’m Eren” Jean would have rolled his eyes if they didn’t hurt so damn much. So like Eren, to introduce himself rather than have Reiner do it.

“Yep, and Armin is the blondie opposite him on the end of your row, who is neighbour to Jean, who you’ve already been introduced to, although I don’t remember him saying hello..?” Rather than respond to the condescending tone, Jean flipped him off, and heard the tutting form Reiner in response, accompanied with a dark mutter of  “So uncivilised…”

“So? What’s your name, new guy? Unless you’d rather go by freckles.” Jean drawled, propping himself up on his elbows to look at the guy in question.

The answer came from Eren, quick to show off the fact he knew something before Jean. “He’s called Marco”. Jean glanced at him. “Wait, if you knew his name what was the point of introducing yourselves just now?”

“That wasn’t official!” Sasha’s voice rang out from across Marco’s cell. He saw the freckled boy jump and could see his wide eyes as he stared at the girl who sat where Connie had been moments earlier. “Hi Marco, I’m Sasha!” Jean sighed and lay back down as he heard the small sounds of distress coming from freckles – Marco – as he took in this new sight with Sasha talking a mile a minute at him all the while. 

 _Welcome to the family, freckles._  he thought.


	4. First Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soooo I really wasn't happy with the old version of this chapter so I changed itttt, HOPEFULLY chp.5 will be out soon-ish. Read, Review, bla bla, every comment is welcomed!!! 
> 
> So, Jean and Marco's first 'proper' conversation (sort of), hoverboards vs. teleportation and Marco's first appointment with Dr. Zoe...

It took two days for them to come for freckles – Marco. Jean had been sure Dr. Zoe wouldn’t be able to wait to start on her newest subject, but she had instead decided to focus her attentions elsewhere.

Ymir was taken away the next day, and was gone for a few hours, at Jean’s guess, reappearing before the second meal was served. Nothing seemed out of place, and the only injury sustained was a headache, which was par for the course. She was a favourite, seen almost twice as frequently as anyone else, and Jean was never sure if he was jealous of that or not. Because for all of her bitching and complaining, all Ymir ever came back with were headaches. He still didn’t know what the hell went on when she was whisked away, but anything had to be better than what _he_ went through. But then there were the times when she went quiet.

Ymir was never quiet, something Jean had slowly gotten used to. It was comforting, in a way, to have the soothing background noise of her voice, muttering under breath to someone no one else could see, sometimes breaking into a bark of laughter that was quickly muffled, like she had surprised herself. So when she became quiet, it was unnerving. Her eyes would become glassy and lifeless, like the pet fish that had had died when he was seven, floating upside-down in the tank, unseeing, sightless. Those eyes held no emotion, had no depth. She would sit for hours, unresponsive, not reacting to Bertolt’s gentle queries, to Eren’s harsh questioning, not even to Mikasa’s soothing murmur. When she did eventually come out of it, it was with a violent twitch, her eyes blinking rapidly and her hands moving restlessly. What had unnerved them all on an equal level was the fact that she was unable to recall a single moment of it. But that day she seemed fine, to his relief, and was soon talking to her invisible companions.

Eren wasn’t so lucky. When he returned, blindfolded by bandages, Jean had felt sick to his stomach. His head was filled with the manic laughter of Dr Zoe, parroting “comparisons!” at him like he would understand. Breathing hard, he had fisted a hand in the sheets and fought back the oncoming wave of nausea. He jerked when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, but calmed when he turned and Armin was there, as close to the bars as he could get, his turquoise eyes filled with sympathy. Jean hated sympathy from anyone, but Armin was too gentle to get angry at, so he let it go. Mikasa had growled in anger, the sound echoing through the room, for all the good it did. Levi simply shot her a disinterested glance and left.

 His near panic attack had made Jean unsteady, so for the next few hours he had tried to deal with it as he dealt with everything; by sleeping. It had worked pretty well, letting the time slip by unnoticed until the next day, when he woke up to Marco being led outside.

 

* * *

 

 

Marco was almost relieved when he was taken away. The past two days of waiting, his stomach twisting and turning, flinching violently when the door was opened for Eren and the girl called Ymir, had not been pleasant. But as he entered the world beyond that steel automated door, namely a wide white hallway, he would have gone back to that cell in a heartbeat. Swallowing thickly, he walked beside his guard, a small man with black hair the others had called Levi, and tried not to make a break for it. All he wanted to do was run far away, as far from this place as possible. Logically, he knew there was no point. Emotionally, he wasn’t so sure. He was led down the hall, past countless white doors, taking a left turn and finally arriving at a door marked ‘Dr. Hanji Zoe’.

If there was ever a point he was going to faint, Marco was positive it was now. He could feel his whole body shaking, so much that the world was quivering at the edges. Levi didn’t bother to knock, just pushed the door open, shoved Marco inside, and left, the door shutting with a final click. The next thing he knew, a whirlwind of brown and white was in his face, causing him to squeak and back up against the wall.

“Hello there! You must be Marco! What am I talking about, of course you’re Marco!”

The whirlwind backed off a little bit as it spoke, and he realised it was a woman in a lab coat, messy brown hair apparently defying gravity and trying vainly to escape from the bun she’d wrestled it into. Big glasses, almost goggles, were on her face, along with a grin he could only describe as manic. “Sit, sit!” she enthused, pulling out a chair and pushing it towards him. It rolled, being the type found in offices, and Marco stared at it for a minute, struck by such a familiar object in this crazy world he’d been thrust into. Eventually he sat, perched on the edge and twisting side to side nervously. Apparently he wasn’t going to be dissected anytime soon, and with the knowledge came a wash of relief. He looked around the room, and noticed for the first time how much of a sheer mess it was. Books were everywhere, along with beakers and various chemical equipment, and the desk was buried under piles of sheets. The walls took a break from the constant whiteness, painted a light green, and there was carpet, he realised, a beige colour, with some strange stains in places. His assessment of the room over, he looked back at the doctor and flinched. She was staring at him intently, legs crossed, chin resting on her hand. For the first time she wasn’t smiling, and the look in her eyes erased any doubts that yes, this woman was crazy. It only lasted a moment, and then she was on her feet, walking as she began to talk, like she couldn’t bear to stay still for even a moment.

“So. Marco! I hear you’ve been settling in nicely. I realise this is a bit different from what you’ve been used to, but I was so impressed with the way you handled being here!” her voice was loud, even when she wasn’t shouting, and Marco blinked, taken aback by her words. Settling in? Different from what he was used to? She was acting like he’d moved house, like he’d volunteered to be here! He opened his mouth, but she steamrolled ahead, and he got the impression that it was very hard to interrupt Hanji Zoe when she didn’t want to be interrupted.

“Not like some of the others! I’m telling you, I thought for sure that Jean was never going to behave, what with his constant attempts – and Eren! He’s nearly as bad! They’re quite similar, you know, so I’m not too surprised, I should have expected it really…” Her voice changed, like she’d broken off mid-sentence at ‘attempts’ and then tried to divert his attention away from what she had been about to say. He only knew it because it was something his sister constantly did, whenever she caught herself almost revealing where she’d really been at the weekend, or how much money she owed Marco. Thinking of his sister made his heart clench, so he focused on the important part of her sentence while she babbled on about Armin and Bertolt – “Little angels – oh! Well, it’s quite close in Armin’s case, wouldn’t you say?” Had she been about to say ‘attempts at escape’? Hope lurched in his chest at the thought even as he shivered at her tone – she spoke like they were pets. If there was any way to get out, and Jean had tried to escape before, maybe by working together they could find a way! The thought of seeing his sister, seeing his granddad, made him want to smile, but he forced it down, and only then became aware of the silence.

“Anything the matter Marco? You’re awfully quiet” Marco’s eyes widened as he shivered at her tone. For all that he’d said she was loud, her voice had a downright terrifying quality to it when it was quiet. He stammered, trying to think of something to say.

“Oh – I –uh, no, not real- I just, you know, I’m not used to…. this” his voice trailed off at the end and he looked around the room, too scared to look at Dr Zoe. He nearly fell out the chair when she suddenly clapped her hands and resumed pacing, her hands waving in the air as she spoke.

“Understandable! Well, I have things to be doing now, so I’ll get Levi or someone to take you back. Bye now!” and with that, she turned her back, effectively dismissing him.

Marco blinked, then stood, unsure what to do. She’d said she would get someone, but she had simply sat at her desk, scribbling furiously on some paper. His eyes slid to the door. Would an alarm go off if he opened it? Did he have time? If someone was coming, they’d be here soon. This was his only chance. Adrenaline flooding his veins, he slowly walked to the door, praying that the doctor wouldn’t turn around. Grasping the door knob, he twisted it, holding his breath, and pulled. No alarm. Yes! Moving quickly, he slipped through the small gap and pulled the door shut, pulse racing.

His joy was immediately crushed when he turned around and saw Levi leaning against the wall opposite.

 

* * *

 

 

“Did you known they have six types of iPhone out now? Six! I remember the one that I had...”

Jean looked over, and sure enough, Connie was sitting there, mourning his loss in the ‘new age of technology’ as he put it. “I bet I’d be a totally successful billionaire if I was out there right now. I’d have invented something totally cool like… like a hoverboard! I wonder if they have hoverboards now…” Jean scoffed, and heard Ymir do the same across the aisle. “Honey, the only thing you could invent are fantasies, and look! You’re halfway there already!” Jean barked out a laugh at that, and heard a snicker from someone else. Connie frowned, deeply insulted, and launched into all the features of his new hoverboard, before running out of steam and asking what everyone else would invent. Jean scowled. He hated conversations like this, and Connie knew it. It just served as a reminder that they weren’t going to get out of here, that the world was moving on without them. “A way of shutting you up is what I’d invent.” Ymir stated dryly, making a smile creep across Jeans face as he heard the indignant spluttering from the other side of Marco’s cell. After that, it turned into a game, everyone taking a turn to say what they’d invent. They were just reaching the apex of hoverboard vs. teleportation devices, with Connie vs Eren when the door opened and freckles came back.

Jean had heard the footsteps, but was still surprised that he’d barely been gone ten minutes. The usual hush had descended as the door opened, and Marco quietly walked down the aisle and into his cell. Once Levi had left, it was silent in a tense sort of way, until Connie, with his usual tact, asked him what had happened.

Marco blinked, and tilted his head, as if having trouble recalling, then told them what the crazy doctor had done, or not, in his case. When he described the look that had been in her eyes, Jean’s shudder mirrored nearly everyone else there. They had all seen that look. The way she would peer at you, like an owl sizing up a mouse, deciding whether it was worth the effort to butcher and eat. He heard Armin whimper slightly and leaned back against the bars separating them, immediately feeling the other boy shuffle up and curl his hands in the back of his shirt. Without looking he knew Armin would have his wings raised and slightly curled forward, creating a little protective bubble for himself. If the only way Jean could help him was to press as close to those cold bars as possible, well, he had back pain anyway from the crappy beds. After finishing, the tension seemed to dissapitate, and the usual background sounds filtered in.

Namely, Eren and Mikasa speaking quietly to each other in the corner, Ymir doing her thing with the ghosts, and Connie arguing with Sasha. In all honesty, Jean was surprised at how quickly Marco had grown accustomed to life in jail. He still had his moments, Jean could see it in his face, where everything threatened to overwhelm him, but overall he seemed pretty stable. More than Jean had been when he had first arrived… shaking the memories off, he twisted slightly, looking over his shoulder. As predicted, Armin was in a small ball, wings raised as a barrier. Reaching slowly through the bars, he delicately touched one of them. Armin started in surprise, then settled, uncurling slightly and pushing his wings forward slightly to give Jean better access. Jean had realised a while ago that Armin didn’t hate his wings, and definitely wasn’t against Jean stroking them when he was stressed, which was always. It was especially bad when he was due for an ‘appointment’, which could be any day now. They sat like that for a while, Jean zoning out and getting lost in the repetitive motion of soothing Armin, Armin slowly relaxing enough to let go of Jeans shirt and instead curl up on the floor, eventually falling into a dreamless sleep.

After a while, he noticed Marco side-eyeing him. Nothing obvious, but every couple of minutes his eyes would dart to Jean, then away, as if wanting to talk, but too scared to raise his voice and shatter the relative quiet. Sighing slightly, Jean figured what the hell and stood, gentle so as to not disturb Armin, then proceeded to sit on the opposite side, next to freckles, who was now openly watching him.

“You got something you wanna say?” Jean said, slanting his eyes over the brunette’s shoulder, affecting an air of boredom. This kid was the most interesting thing to happen to him since his last escape attempt involving a plastic spoon and some stretchy plastic, but no need to let him know that.

“Oh, um, yeah. Jean, right?”

His voice was deep, with an accent that hinted at the north, but Jean wasn’t confident enough in his geography to nail the exact place. “Sure is, freckles. So. What’cha want to know?” he drawled, shifting his gaze to the others eyes. Light brown, that flickered away immediately on contact, then returned with renewed vigour. Jean felt his lip twitch in the temptation to smile.

“Well, it’s about when I was talking to the, uh, doctor.” Springton, maybe? Too short on the vowels to be Fairview. Jean felt his tail twitch in irritation at the unknown accent, and focused on the words Marco was speaking. “… said something about you escaping? I was just uhm, wondering if you could tell me? Maybe? About it?” Nervousness crept into his tone, and Jean felt his tail move again at the reminder of his previous escapes. Well, attempts.

“Well, that’s a tough question to ask, I mean, there’s been _a lot._ ”

“Oh here we go, again” Eren muttered from across the room. “Screw you, dog breath” Jean replied without looking, which he knew drove the other boy crazy. “At least I can get out for longer than five minutes.” Glancing over, he saw the redness in Eren’s face and smirked.

“How the hell was I supposed to know that Levi was walking down the hallway? I’d like to see you try to take him, I’d pay, just to see you get your ego crushed.” Eren raised his voice to be heard by the others, and Jean heard Sasha, who had appeared sometime while he’d been zoned out, groan and mutter to Marco about stupid boys making stupid competitions out of _everything_.

“Knock it off, you two.” Reiner spoke up, which wasn’t rare, but he usually didn’t bother with them when they argued. Either way, Jean got too much pleasure teasing Eren to pay much attention. Besides, he couldn’t let that insult pass.

“Look at you, knowing your betters. Getting Levi to fight for you would be the smart move, I agree. Not like you could stand a chance by yourself, anyway.”

The beginnings of a growl rumbles in Eren’s chest, and Jean glared at the brunette, hair puffing out on his tail and head.

“ _Guys._ ” It was the urgency in Reiner’s tone that got Eren and Jean to quit their stare off, and in unison snap “What?” at the muscular blonde down the hall. Making them glare at each other even more.

“Stop arguing for one bleedin’ minute and _look at Ymir_.”


	5. UPDATE!!

Just a quick update; I haven't been totally absent from this fic lately, I was really unhappy with the old chapter 4, so I changed it A LOT.   
Please read it or chp.5 (which should be out soon-ish) won't make any sense.   
So sort of a new chapter?


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